


Joy

by jencsi



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:08:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21935005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jencsi/pseuds/jencsi
Summary: Julie Finlay; future CSI, book worm and holiday scrooge? Part of my new young Julie fic series following the life of the energetic, intelligent little girl and what has shaped her into the person she is today.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 2





	Joy

December 19th, 1974, 

Patrick and Karen Finlay liked to think they were aware of things happening in their lives and of course in the life of their six-year-old daughter Julie. Today challenged that notion spectacularly. 

“The principals office?” Karen hissed to Patrick as they walked down the hallway of the elementary school Julie attended “she’s six, how much trouble could she have gotten into?” 

But Patrick could not answer his wife because he knew just how much trouble their daughter was capable of. He was sucked into a flashback from a month ago when she decided to redecorate the living room walls with paint from her art kit. Over the summer, she had climbed an abnormally large tree at the park, despite his protests and refused to come down right away. Luckily, he had managed to diffuse both incidents without Karen ever knowing. Today however, was something he could not keep from her. When he answered the house phone this afternoon, he expected some sort of call related to work from where he had just left, instead he was shocked to be summoned by the principal at the elementary school. Julie had done something in class that did not meet the class’s expectations of “good behavior” but the principal would not elaborate on the incident, rather she insisted on talking to both Patrick and Karen after school today. 

Karen, who had been working, missed the call and was now nagging Patrick about details he did not have. So instead of picking Julie up at three o’clock, they were now walking down the hall to the principal’s office where Julie was being kept after school as punishment, waiting for her parents to arrive. 

“I don’t know dear,” Patrick lied to Karen “I’m sure it’s nothing”

He motioned for her to walk in front of him as they entered the office space, so he could hold open the door. Avoidance disguised as chivalry. Julie was seated in the tiny chairs set aside for the kids, positioned in front of the secretary’s desk. Both Julie and the secretary looked up when they heard the door open. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Finlay,” the secretary greeted them, then nodded towards the first door off the office hallway “she’s inside.”

They both knew she was talking about the principal. Julie did not even make a move or a sound as she sat in the chair looking disheveled and sad. 

“We’ll be right back okay?” Karen offered small words of encouragement to Julie, whether it helped remained to be seen.

The principal’s office space was clean and organized with adult sized chairs positioned in front of the desk with a black and gold lettered sign with the principal’s name “Mrs. Wilson” spelled across it. 

“Thank you both for coming,” Mrs. Wilson said motioning for them to sit down in the empty chairs “don’t worry, Julie’s fine and she’s not being punished, except for staying after school today.”

“What did she do?” Karen asked, folding her hands together nervously and placing them in her lap. 

“She said, well,” Mrs. Wilson began but struggled to convey “she was going around telling all the kids in her class that, there was no such thing as Santa Clause, now I know how bright Julie is, she excelled in reading and everything else this year, but it’s just not good for her to be so blunt at such a young age.”

“That’s it?” Patrick said incredulously “that’s why we’re here?” Because a kid figures out there’s no Santa?”

“Stop it,” Karen hissed to him then turned to Mrs. Wilson and said “We are so sorry she upset the other kids, but what can we possibly do? We can’t lie to her.”

“I know that,” Mrs. Wilson said, “but maybe talk to her and let her know it’s not nice to ruin the fun for the other kids, she can still enjoy Christmas and not make kids, you know, cry.” 

Patrick looked at Karen in disbelief. As proud of Julie as they were for being so observant so young, they did not want her to be a social pariah at only five-years old. 

“We’ll talk to her,” Patrick promised “but I can’t make any guarantees, she calls things as she sees them because she’s, you know, six.”

He mimicked the principal’s sarcasm because he truly had no idea how to handle this. Mrs. Wilson let them leave the office to tend to Julie as they saw fit. Now that school was over, the family traipsed down the empty school hallways in silence. Julie was quiet, not sure what had happened in that office or why her parents were being so quiet. The car ride back home was just as quiet. Julie could only stare out the window and day dream about a book she had read during lunch and was eager to finish reading once she got back to the safety and peace of her room. 

“So, Julie, honey,” her mother’s quiet voice spoke for the first time as they entered their house “we want to ask you something.”

Julie focused on both her parents but stayed quiet. 

“Did you tell your friends there was no Santa Clause?” Karen asked.

“Yes,” the little girl replied bluntly.

“Why would you do that sweetie?” Karen asked. 

“Because it’s true,” Julie said, “he’s not real, all grown-ups know that.”

“Why do you think that?” Patrick asked her gently now.

“I read it in a book, the encyclopedia at the library,” Julie said twirling one of her braided pigtails nervously “and the candy I got in my stocking last year had a sticker from the candy store by the mall, if Santa makes it at the North Pole, why does it have a sticker from the store on it?”  
Patrick and Karen could only stare at Julie in shock, then exchange worried glances. What was going on in this child’s brain?

“Well honey sometimes he needs help, so he asks parents to buy some things for their children,” Karen explained softly, brushing the top of Julie’s head gently, but Julie just stared at her mother in disbelief or rather, no belief at all. 

“Uh Julie, can you go upstairs and play for a little while,” Patrick said now “your mother and I want to talk.”

Julie turned and obediently carried herself up the stairs to her room. 

“What?” Karen hissed to Patrick once Julie was out of earshot. 

“Maybe we should tell her the truth,” Patrick said, “I feel like we’ve already lied to her enough you know?”

“Oh, so it’s okay to tell her about Santa but not about Connie?” Karen challenged him. 

“This is different,” Patrick said, “her focus on Santa affects her, you know, development and social standing, but Connie doesn’t play any part of that.”

Karen crossed her arms and stared at her husband, wondering if this was justified or not. 

“Well I suppose if we are going to crush her spirit we might as well tell her now,” Karen concluded sarcastically. 

“Or,” Patrick said calmly “we could let her figure it out for herself.”

He gave Karen a look and now she really questioned this challenge their little girl was presenting. 

December 24th 1974

The house was dark and quiet; her parents had gone to sleep at last. She heard them shut the door from her bedroom where she lay awake, long after they tucked her in for the night. She could see the lights from outside, multi-colored strands her father had hung shortly after Thanksgiving. They cast shadows over her ceiling and walls. She liked to watch them dance and make shapes as she tried to fall asleep. Tonight, was different. She watched the lights but forced herself to stay awake until she heard that familiar click of her parent’s bedroom door shutting. 

After that click, she climbed out of her bed, throwing the covers back over her stuffed animals to look like someone was sleeping in it. She took her flashlight and fathers old Polaroid camera and tiptoed to her door. She carefully pried it open, peeking around the dark hallway for any signs of trouble. Sensing it was clear, she tiptoed on the carpet, being mindful of the squeaky floorboards. Her careful walk led her downstairs to where the Christmas tree stood, tall, decorated in shiny bulbs, red and green, tinsel, multi-colored lights. There were no presents under it, she made it just in time. The wall clock ticked loudly, showing her, it was 11:30. It was almost time. She nestled her tiny body into the armchair right in front of the tree, eyeing the unworkable fireplace beyond that. The mantel was decorated with little figurines; snowmen, Santa’s, reindeer, holiday scenes. Her mother hung stockings, lights, pictures, little Knick Knacks, all around the house. Even the kitchen had towels with Santa faces and snowmen and winter birds stitched on to them. The house felt cozy and she loved the way the lights twinkled. But she was on a mission. 

She stayed in front of that tree and that fireplace, staring intently, waiting, holding her breath as the clock ticked closer and closer to midnight. A light flicking on illuminating the stairs made her jump and gasp quietly. She hunkered down further into the chair as footsteps descended the stairs and into her line of vision. 

“What do you think you’re doing kiddo?” her father asked her, crossing his arms. 

“Waiting for Santa,” she said plainly “if he’s even real.”

She shone the flashlight over to the little fold out table set with cookies and milk on a tray and carrots for reindeer. 

“You’re supposed to be in bed,” Patrick scolded her, approaching the chair “do you really think Santa will come here if he knows you’re still awake?”

“You know he’s not real,” Julie insisted “mommy said he needs grown ups to help, but I don’t believe her, and I don’t think you believe her either.”

She pierced him with an icy look, her eyes shining bright. Her curiosity and intelligence outdid him by years. It panged him to lie to her about this, but like Karen said, what about Connie and the truth about her real childhood? Which one was more traumatic to keep from her? His silence only infused the doubt in Julie’s mind. 

“Okay kiddo,” Patrick said, “if you think you’re right, lets wait for him together.”

He motioned for Julie to sit up and he took the chair, lifting her back into his lap. She curled up there, happy to have someone listening to her for a change. She pointed the flashlight beam around the fireplace, stockings and cookie tray again. 

“He’s not going to be here,” Julie insisted, shaking her head, her mass of curly blonder hair moving wildly like it had its own agenda. 

“We’ll just see about that,” Patrick said smugly, knowing this six-year-old could not possibly stay awake all night. She would fall asleep in his arms and he would carry her back to bed then sneak the presents down with Karen soon and fill the stockings like they had done successfully for the last five years. 

Watching the tree and other lights twinkle was relaxing. Having Julie lay her head on his chest was calming for both of them. She was just to tiny and too young to have this magically holiday ruined so soon. He adored that she was smart but was she going to miss out on fun because of it? God help them all if she turned out as rigid as Connie. 

December 25th, 1974

“Patrick,” a voice called to him, way out in the distance but he could not register its location. 

He felt groggy, like he had been asleep for ages, but he couldn’t have, he was waiting for Julie to fall asleep so he could put her back to bed. The voice called his name again, clearer, closer, and his eyes snapped open. Daylight was streaming through the curtains. Karen was standing over him, clutching Julie in her arms, still dressed in her red and black striped pajamas and little bunny slippers. She looked exhausted as she lay her head on Karen’s shoulder. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked sitting up slowly from the armchair. 

“Oh nothing,” Karen said coldly “I just came down after midnight to take care of that little “project” I forgot about, only to find our six-year-old stalking me with a flashlight and a Polaroid, care to explain?”

“She’s waiting for Santa,” Patrick began glancing around and seeing presents under the tree and the stockings filled with candy “Hey slugger, looks like he’s real after all!” 

Karen eyed him with a serious look, rocking a sleepy Julie from side to side. 

“Not real,” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes “I was right.”

Patrick looked confused as he looked towards Karen again for an answer. 

“She stayed up all night Patrick,” Karen confirmed “she caught me filling the stockings and putting the gifts out, it’s all over.”

Patrick felt his heart sink in his chest. How could that be? She was a wild child but this? Staying awake all night? 

“I’m sorry,” he apologized to Karen standing up and relieving her of Julie’s weight on her shoulder, lifting the little girl into his arms “I was supposed to put her back to bed after she fell asleep, I was so sure she would.” 

“Sorry kiddo,” he added to Julie who had no answer for him, just a yawn. 

“But listen, that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy Christmas,” Patrick explained as he rocked Julie gently “honey, do you understand now why we didn’t want to spoil it for you, we want you to be a kid and have fun as long as you could.”

He sat her up and smoothed her hair back to look into her tired eyes. 

“Okay daddy,” she said tiredly “I’m sorry I ruined Christmas.”

“You didn’t ruin it,” Karen insisted, kissing the top of Julie’s head “we can still have fun like daddy said and we still love you and will get you presents every year okay, but you still have to be a good girl.”

“I’ll try,” Julie insisted, burying her face back into Patrick’s shoulder. 

He sighed, relieved that they had settled this, hoping now to instill the lesson of giving to each other out of love and appreciating what they have, Santa or not. 

“Merry Christmas sweetheart,” he said to her, kissing her forehead. 

“Merry Christmas daddy,” she mumbled her reply, exhausted. 

Despite the setback and seemingly cold way to start this holiday, Julie perked up after breakfast, helping Karen make cinnamon rolls, then tearing into her presents happily. Karen and Patrick exchanged their gifts for each other while Julie played with her new toys and skimmed through her new books. At her insistence, she climbed back into Patrick’s lap, clutching a new stuffed animal rabbit and a new story book she wanted him to read to her. He obeyed, shifting her in his arms, nice and cozy, beginning to read softly to her, making new funny voices for new characters. She giggled, Karen watched over them, stroking her daughter’s hair, happy for this tender moment, relieved that it was not all in vain. There really was a way to enjoy this day without lying to her. 

Lies and secrets enveloped their lives since the day Constance gave birth to Julie, but Karen could not imagine a world without Julie. Even if she tried to hunt down Santa Clause, she was still a child who needed love and assurance and they could not punish her for being smart. This was what Karen always wanted, a family, a little girl just like Julie to hold and care for. It didn’t matter how they got here, all that mattered was that they were here right now, cozy, safe, letting Julie be free to learn at her own pace and not what society and the school principal told them. Karen snuggled close to Julie and Patrick as he read. Julie looked back at her mother, lifting her head, her wild curls moving with her as she smiled at her, reaching for her hand to hold, playing with the ring on her finger. Karen’s heart shot through the roof of her soul, savoring every second of this moment; pure absolute joy.

**Author's Note:**

> Took me over a year to get back to writing and finally posting this fic and I hope to write more about Julie as a little girl, navigating life, how the secret of her adoptive parents affects her future and how she becomes the CSI she became.


End file.
